Shauna's Wedding
by unbearablelightness
Summary: "Shauna was getting married in New Jersey. Somehow - Mindy wasn't sure how, specifically - she and Danny ended up going together."
1. Chapter 1

Shauna's Wedding

Shauna was getting married in New Jersey. Somehow – Mindy wasn't sure how, specifically – she and Danny ended up going together. Mindy couldn't bring herself to refer to their going together as a date. It wasn't. They both got their invitations in the office one morning, both opened them in one another's presence. The gold glitter fell out of each invitation, spreading over both of their laps. Glitter to celebrate love. Danny grumbled at this flamboyancy. Mindy gagged at the wedding being held in New Jersey.

So, in the kitchen of the practice, they drank the espresso that Parker had gone out to get for them and read their invitations. "Please join Shauna Dicanio and Barry Stassen in a celebration of their love…" Mindy skimmed the details. "Saturday May 18, 2013." She grimaced. "New Jersey? Ugh."

Danny was in full agreement. "That means we have to stay _overnight_?"

"Rule of thumb for a destination wedding: you have to cross at least one major ocean. New York Harbor is immediately disqualified. Whatever happened to like, the barefoot Caribbean weddings you always see on Twinrix commercials?"

Danny groaned. Seamlessly, they planned to take the same train to New Jersey, to book in the same hotel that was suggested in an accommodations leaflet in the invitation, and to go halfsies on whatever gift Mindy chose.

Mindy hadn't felt weird about it until, when she was sifting through racks of clothes at Saks for the perfect springtime a-line wedding attire, she found herself calling Danny to see what color shirt he was wearing with his suit. Mindy was thrilled to learn that he was wearing "his one wedding look: a grey three piece suit and white shirt." Thrilled, Mindy bought an a-line Monique Lhuillier dress to complement Danny's vintage (he would never call it that) ensemble.

She paused at this. Had she just dropped 500 dollars to _match_ Danny Castellano?

.

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Shauna's Wedding

Their progression to the wedding continued to unfold organically. The rest of the office was invited, of course: Betsy, Jeremy, and Morgan would surely be joining them on the train, at the ceremony, and at the dinner, but it was just Danny who was waiting in a cab outside of Mindy's apartment on the morning of the 18th.

She met him downstairs, dragging the smallest bag she could manage for an overnight stay. Her party dress hung on a hanger, flung over her shoulder. As a last minute effort to ensure that no train germs got on her beloved brocade dress, she threw a black plastic garbage bag over the hanger. The plastic stuck to her skin in the dewy May morning.

Mindy crawled into the cab, having put her suitcase into the truck with the help of the driver. She folded her dress over her sweaty lap, looking over at Danny. He looked entirely neutral – bored almost. She hated that he was already wearing his dress pants and shirt from his suit.

"God, you're already dressed?" Mindy frowned, fanning her face with her hands. "You're going to be all kinds of damp when we get there."

"Don't refer to me as damp. That's gross."

"No, Danny, what's gross is that you're choosing to commute in _tweed pants_. Are you serious? You're not a war-era stock broker."

"Okay, that's enough. Good morning to you."

"Thanks for bringing me a coffee, by the way."

"You've got to be kidding me."

.

They had driven six blocks from Mindy's apartment when she slapped her cheeks, _Home Alone _style, admitting that she had forgotten to pack the present. Danny sighed and asked the cab driver to turn around. Sprinting, Mindy returned back to the cab with a bright yellow present hoisted in her arms. She slid back into the humid cab, placing the large square box between them.

"Good?" Danny asked pointedly. Sweat had already started to form on his brow.

"Good."

"Alright, Hal, we're ready to go." He patted the seat of the driver.

Mindy buckled her seat belt, trying to position herself in the best way to avoid her bare legs getting stuck to the vinyl car seats. In her wriggling and repositioning, she hadn't seen Danny's hand extended over to her side of the back seat. He was holding a half-eaten Luna energy bar. "Here." He offered. "We don't have time to stop for coffee."

"Thanks, Danny."

"So what did we get them?" He gestured to the present, his eyes slowly running over the heart-shaped card that Mindy had taped to the box. In her most wedding-appropriate script, she had written _From Mindy and Danny_. Mindy watched him read the card. His reaction was almost entirely incomprehensible, but she could've sworn she saw the most subtle glint in his eye.

But it could've been sweat, too. The back seat of the cab they shared was incredibly, incredibly warm.

"It's uh, a molacajete. Like, a mortar and pestle." Mindy made the motion of using a mortar in her palm. Danny's confusion remained. "Forget it." She told him. "I read an article online: _Ten Wedding Gifts So Good They'll Fight Over Them In The Divorce._ They'll love it."

"Nobody does the toaster thing anymore?"

"Toasters are out. Volcanic rock from Williams-Sonoma is in." She rested her arm on the gift between them. "You owe me thirty bucks."

.

The train ride was perhaps even _more _excruciatingly hot then the cab. Mindy didn't care, though, because praise all that is good and holy, Morgan brought five coffees for Mindy, Danny, Jeremy, Betsy, and himself. It was hot coffee, though. Mindy and Danny spent the first twenty minutes of the train ride intermittently dropping ice cubes into their coffees and taking as many sips as they could until the ice cube dissolved.

For the remaining hour and a half, Mindy feigned interest in Kathy Griffin's autobiography. She curiously nudged Danny to see what he was listening to in his ear buds. She'd recently shown him how to stream podcasts on his phone and since then he'd been obsessively consuming every radio program offered by New York Public Radio.

.

Arriving in New Jersey shortly before noon left nearly two hours to check in and get ready before the ceremony began at two o'clock. Mindy felt disgusting. Her denim shorts were glued to her legs. Mindy swore she could see Danny's nipples through his sweat-soaked shirt.

It was gross, but Mindy stared.

.

Everyone dispersed to their assigned rooms as quickly as they could. Danny, Jeremy, and Morgan were held up at the reception desk, trying to sort out a reservation error. Mindy excused herself up to her own room, eager to shove wet cloths under her armpits and wash her face. She had less than an hour to get ready and the sweat on her brow called for a total re-do of her make-up.

Mindy holed up in her small, quaint hotel room, listening to the '00s Club Bangers mix on Songza and twisting her hair up into a chignon. She had cracked a bottle of white wine she'd found in the mini-fridge under her television. A coffee mug of Sauvignon Blanc lubricated her preparation. She'd scrupulously emulated Mila Kunis' smokey eye from the new issue of Vanity Fair, holding it up to her own reflection in the mirror for reference.

Danny interrupted her getting ready in the crucial minutes of her finishing touches. He held his wrinkled suit jacket in his hand, his face beet red with what Mindy could only assume was his usual rage or frustration. He explained his frustration: Jeremy was using his shower, as Morgan had occupied the bathtub in his shared room with Jeremy. Danny needed steam to get rid of the damp wrinkles in his suit.

Mindy forced Danny to entirely disrobe. His pants, she told him, were too wrinkled. She hung them on the shower curtain of the hotel bathtub, letting hot water run while she finished getting ready outside of the bathroom. Danny sat on Mindy's bed in boxer briefs and a white t-shirt, drinking his own ceramic mug of the wine she'd opened.

She could feel him watching her as she got ready. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her wiggle mascara onto her eyelashes, she realized. His gaze was fairly neutral in observation. Mindy had little doubt that watching a woman put make-up on was foreign to Danny. He had been married. I mean, shared bathrooms, right? It felt strange, though. More intimate and prolonged then their Valentines dinner.

The feeling of intimacy expanded when she realized that she had to change into her dress. More specifically, that she had to ask Danny to turn around as she manipulated herself into Spanx. Even more specifically, when she asked him to zip up her dress. Danny, in his t-shirt and underwear; Mindy, in her lovely brocade dress. Briefly, she could feel his clammy hands brush ever so briefly on her own moist, bare back.

Mindy's "Uhh, thanks" seemed hard to get out.

In what seemed like a mutual recognition of the unprecedented sexiness of such an event, they both quickly moved on, sipping their wine, uncomfortably listening to _Umbrella _by Rihanna.

.

Mindy sang the entire way to the church across the street from the hotel. The five of them congregated in the garden of the church. Buzzed from the wine, Mindy sang "under my um-ber-ella, ella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh, under my umbrella" in a continuous loop, tuning out the dull office conversation exchanged between Jeremy, Betsy, and Danny. Morgan nervously whispered to Mindy about one of the lavender-clad bridesmaids lingering at the door of the church.

"Morgan, two steps back. Please."

"Oh, god, Dr. L. I can't do it. I can't just go up to her like that."

"Just come on, Morgan." Mindy gestured, perhaps too obviously, to the auburn-haired bridesmaid. "We've got fifteen minutes before the ceremony. Perfect window for introductions."

"No, no." He placed his hands on his hips. "Wait, yes. No I can." He shook his head no. "No, god, this isn't the time."

A bearded, blonde man in a suit passed through Mindy's line of vision, completely adverting her attention. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." She whispered to Morgan. "Jude Law, six o'clock."

"Okay, yes." Morgan was in agreement. "That is one well-sculpted man." He spoke loudly; so loudly, that Danny's interest shifted from his conversation with Betsy and Jeremy to Mindy and Morgan's obvious, slightly tipsy gaze at the two attractive strangers before them.

Danny shifted on the lawn of the church, uncomfortably putting his hands into his pockets. His disappointment was entirely passed over by Mindy, who was busily trying to approximate _which _Jude Law film this Jude Law lookalike most resembled.

"Is _Alfie _going too far?" Mindy asked.

Morgan was right up close to her, doing his best to converse in a hushed, secretive tone. "Are you kidding me? With that suit, he is _Sherlock_ _Holmes _Jude, no question."

"Damn."

"Get in there, Dr. L."

"Are you kidding me, Morgan?" Mindy nudged him. "It feels like I'm wearing a fricken space suit." She gestured to her dress. The brocade material was thick. Too thick, probably, for a semi-outdoor May wedding. "My legs are literally stuck together right now. I mean, I'm not even sure if I can walk."

Danny touched the fabric of his suit absently, absorbing Mindy's disappointment in having made the effort to match him instead of Jude Law.

.

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Shauna's Wedding

Mindy felt Danny's absence immediately. He hadn't chosen to sit by her at the ceremony. He sat in the pew behind her, next to an elderly woman who rested her hand on his lap the entire time. Mindy didn't know why she expected – or wanted, maybe – Danny to sit by her. Part of her felt an allegiance to him, to ensure that he didn't break down in hysterics in memory of his own wedding.

He didn't.

The ceremony was lovely. One single guitarist playing an acoustic, slowed-down rendition of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow. _Or was it _What A Wonderful World_? Mindy wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it brought around warm, lingering feelings within her. It was a sobering moment, the ceremony. Shauna was beaming and, in her own moment of slightly selfish self-reflection, Mindy felt pained that she had yet to be in that position. She often spoke of the grandiose love affairs so often featured in her beloved Nora Ephron films, but this, a relatively intimate spring wedding in New Jersey, felt so real to Mindy. It was unfolding in front of her in real time, not in 1999 with Meg Ryan.

She wiped away tears of happiness for Shauna with her fist.

Mindy was a firm believer that weddings were for the happiness of the bride and groom, _not _for the introspective single women. She didn't want to be selfish.

.

Mindy was glad for the fizzy excitement of the post-ceremony reception. With an open bar, the courtyard of the hotel really transformed into a lovely little reception. A white tent was set up on the grounds of the hotel, filled with the catering company milling around with platters of tarts and shrimp in cute floral wrappings.

The startling introspection of the ceremony, though, remained tightly wrapped around Mindy, distracting her slightly from her conversation with Betsy. She tried to focus and engage; to retreat out of her rather self-centered world, but it was hard. Everyone was far too placated: too happy. She needed to find Danny. She needed some gritty realism.

She looked around for Danny's small frame, but couldn't find him. Party guests dotted the lawn, clutching one drink like the classy Jersey crowd that they were, happily introducing themselves to one another. Even the tent looked so wonderfully _wedding_: multi-colored patio lanterns hung around the perimeter, a big buffet table with a multi-layered cake with a tiny wax Shauna and Barry on top.

.

Mindy excused herself from Betsy as Jeremy approached, zig-zagging her way through the crowd to find Danny at the bar. She waited for a natural lull in his conversation with the ahead of him in line to interject.

"Cheers, Danny." The man shook his hand. Mindy had always found this formal, friendly exchange so attractive between males. "It was nice meeting you." He touched his hand to the small of his pregnant partner's back, saying: "We'll definitely give you a call when we get home. Set up an appointment."

Mindy grinned at this.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Danny's goodbye to them was so elegant, so engaged and _professional_ that she felt no other way to express herself than to rough up his arm. She liked the way that he recoiled from her playfulness, smiling.

"Way to get your name out there, Dr. Castellano. Networking at a wedding? Kick ass." Mindy was sincere in her approval of Danny's business ethics. Since she'd joined the practice – in the last year, really – Danny had really laid off the aggressive, competitive approach to building a clientele. She and Danny had had countless conversations and arguments about the best means to attract new patients. Mindy favored a more personal approach: turning friends into clients, she called it. She liked to think that she had not forced this more personable approach on Danny, per se. She would never demand that he change himself like that. However, seeing him now, all charismatic and charming, was nice. Mindy figured that this approachability, however marginally, was good for the public to see.

"Yeah, they were pretty nice. I mean, I don't know how we really ended up on the topic of obstetrics, but hey. Good, right?"

"Danny! Totally good. See? That's the beauty of conversation. You never know what will happen." Danny smiled at Mindy's sentiment. "Now, in celebration, let me buy you a drink!"

They moved up in the line. "I think it's an open bar."

"Well, then, let me dictate to the bartender what beverage you'd like."

"A beer is good."

"Two beers it is!" She slapped the bar excitedly, and then turned quickly to Danny, frowning. She whispered: "Am I crazy or does he look like the bartender from _The Shining_?" Mindy and Danny both observed the bartender's burgundy tuxedo jacket and bow-tie. "Oh god, is this all just a figment of my imagination? Am I Jack Nicholson?"

Danny let out a mildly amused puff of air at this, taking his from the bartender and clinking his bottle with Mindy's. "Lloyd, you're the best goddamn bartender from Timbuktu to Portland Maine."

Mindy couldn't believe this. She followed him away from the bar, excitedly nudging him. "Danny did you just quote _The Shining_? When did you become cool?" Her genuine laughter continued, fading into a mutually pleased grinning exchange with Danny.

His moments, however brief, of real, human amusement? Mindy loved those. She was thoroughly pleased anytime Danny was vulnerable in his enjoyment. The brash cynicism that she desired earlier would not be found at this particular moment.

So, too, at this particular moment did Morgan show up. He was asking her about the urban-gruff Jude Law she'd fawned over earlier. Something in the way Danny's grin flattened, his easiness ceasing, halted her. Mindy felt instantly uncomfortable. "I don't know, Morgan." Mindy began, hesitant. Morgan was being persistent and crude in his description – rather, his reiteration of what Mindy had told him earlier before the ceremony. "I mean, another inter-office wedding…" Mindy was searching for the right word.

"Embarrassment?" Danny offered.

"Yup, that's it." Morgan was nodded his head in agreement.

"Uh, no, thank you. I prefer to call it emotional fragmentation. Regardless, I mean, I just don't know if Shauna's wedding is the _ideal _location to be meeting someone." Mindy paused for a moment, sensitive of her phrasing. "Someone _new._"

Morgan argued this: "I thought you were always saying that someone great was always just peering over your shoulder?"

"I think what I said is _around the corner_." Mindy looked up, inordinately aware of Danny's presence. He was, in his usual form, quite blank-faced. He was reacting with interest, Mindy noticed, but perhaps not with offense. She didn't know how that made he feel. "Anyway, I just think that this day is about Shauna and Barry, you know?" She beamed. "I'm turning over a new leaf. Making strides."

"I respect that." Morgan assured her. "Okay, so, Schulman and Associates, sticking together? We're in this wedding together!" Morgan raised vodka cranberry. "Guys, bring it in."

Mindy and Danny both grimaced, raising their beers to Morgan's glass.

.

To be continued.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Shauna's Wedding

The dinner came and went.

Shauna and Barry were real traditionalists in their options: chicken or fish. Lovely platted meals by the catering service, a bottle of red and white wine on the linen-covered circular tables of eight. Mindy sat at table number nine with Betsy, Morgan, Jeremy, and Danny. And three others that she didn't know. Mindy vaguely recognized them from Shauna's Facebook album _Birthdays, etc._

Mindy felt herself gravitate toward Danny. They criticized the absurd salad of kale leaves and goat cheese, although Mindy Instagrammed it anyway when Danny was at the bar getting them both dirty gin martinis for their appetizer course. They decided to split the dinner options to each get a taste of the entrée and sides; Mindy got the fish, cous-cous, and beets, and Danny got the chicken, potatoes, and asparagus. They shared, cutting their protein in half.

Mindy felt vaguely tingly, watching Danny portion half of his chicken breast onto her plate.

.

"God if there is anything I love in the world, it is a dessert bar."

Dinner had ended and the first half of the program had begun. Speeches were broken up by the free perusal of the dessert buffet and the replenishing of beverages. Mindy liberally engaged in both. Wine in hand, she filled her dessert plate with the horribly cute mini-desserts, all presented in shot glasses: mini panna cotta, mini chocolate mousse, mini parfait. "Danny, this is like a Pinterest-er's dream." She held up a shooter-sized peanut butter pie. "_Look_ at how amazing this is. This wedding is seriously setting the bar high."

"What does that even mean?" Danny looked at a tiny lemon cake in the glass, frowning. He set it back on the table. "You know, I hate when people try to do too much of a theme. In twenty years, when they're looking back on their wedding, I bet they'll be embarrassed that they cutesy recipes from some stupid online bulletin board website."

Mindy circled over to the fondue station, gasping over the tiny balls of various cookie dough and fruit for dipping. Danny followed her absently, but carried on with his message. "I mean, what ever happened to the simple wedding cake? One layer of chocolate, one layer of vanilla, and a bride and groom on top. That's it. That'll all you need."

"There is a wedding cake right over there, Danny." Mindy pointed to another table a few feet away with the fondant-covered wedding cake.

"Yeah, but I mean look at that. It's got a twig on it."

"It's a cherry blossom and it's awesome, okay?" They began walking away from the dessert tables, back to their dining table. "Cakes are like art now. There aren't six cake shows on TLC for a boring white-frosting wedding cake. _My _wedding cake is going to be in the shape of the Eiffel Tower."

"You've never even been to Paris."

"By the time I get married, I will have. I won't say yes until we've summered in France."

Danny's eyes rolled at her extravagant demands.

They gravitated back to their table, slipping into their chairs just as Shauna's maid of honor took the microphone to begin her toast.

.

Mindy's evening fell into unexplored territory after the first hour of the reception. The table's game of Marry, Fuck, and Murder had padded the interlude between the speeches and the dance. Guests had just begun to trickle onto the dance floor, and Barry and Shauna were circling the crowd, saying their hellos. Mindy didn't want that for her wedding. Being the center of attention was the ideal for her, but to miss out on the party just to say hello to some loser great aunt? No thank you. Mindy mentally filed _small wedding of 100_ into her bank. She figured that the smaller the wedding, the better the dress she could get.

Danny wasn't interested in the game. He was acting surly, swirling his beer in his beer bottle, sighing uncomfortably with every Top 40 song that the DJ played. Mindy wanted both to tell him to lighten up, and to be the source of his enjoyment.

She would be.

She turned to him at the table, coaxing him out of his hardened silence. Mindy liked watching his disposition ease, for him to become the softer, more comfortable version of himself. He was like this often with her, Mindy knew. Sitting at the table with a large group closed him off; a one-on-one dialogue with Mindy at the empty table left them both laughing.

Mindy liked his laugh, too. It was a gratifying laugh. Danny wouldn't laugh at anything unless it truly amused him, and his lopsided grin at her pre-medical school foray into theatre proved his amusement. She walked him through the process: she and Gwen had written a one-act play about a woman losing her virginity at an AIDS fundraiser. "It had a lot of depth." Mindy promised. "It was sort of working a lot of different angles. The audience left the forty-five minute production feeling extremely depressed."

Danny laughed at this.

"However, we _did _sell the rights to perform it to one tiny, like really alternative theatre school. We spent the eight dollar cheque on a box of wine."

Mindy grinned at Danny's laughter. It was fun sitting there at the table, "2 Become 1" by the Spice Girls playing in the background. Completely surprising to Mindy, Danny asked her if she wanted to dance. The way he said it, with such dark eyes and a tone that made Mindy feel like their dancing was _inevitable_, was so strange. The music was not in Danny's repertoire; it contained no harmonicas or bluesy banjos. It was a lesser-known hit from the late 1990s, completely and brazenly about sex. Mindy found this so profoundly strange, but so amusing. His genuine demeanor told her that he wasn't joking.

Still, to deflect from the adrenaline she was surprised to feel, she said: "You want to dance? To this?"

"Yeah, why not?"

His confidence was convincing. Mindy nodded hesitantly, fumbling to get out of her chair. The leg of her chair had hooked on the leg of the table, causing her ascent to the dance floor to be horribly uncoordinated. Danny was waiting for her in just his shirt and vest, having taken his jacket off long ago, complaining of heat.

A long-time devotee of the Spice Girls, Mindy knew that the song was almost halfway over. There was no real natural beginning to their dancing. Mindy jumped right into grooving, waving her hands like she was some psychedelic flower queen at Coachella. Danny halted this. He stepped in closer to her, gripping his hand on her waist. He took her other hand in his.

All Mindy could say to this immediate change in proximity was: "Oh." Her throat felt dry. She began moving in step with Danny's swaying. It wasn't a real type of dance, Mindy was sure. She knew how to waltz and like, two-step, but this was sort of just oscillating. Their eyes darted back and forth from one another's faces, coyly looking away after brief seconds of eye contact. The song was descending. Their dancing, maybe only lasting two minutes, created a thick, palpable tension. Mindy felt slightly immobile. She felt awkward and excited.

It seemed that they clung together for a couple generous seconds past the song's ending. Mindy could feel her eyes darting from her and Danny's pressed together bodies, up to his face. They pulled apart. Flat-lipped and squinting slightly, Danny stepped back, his hands going to his own hips. She wasn't sure if he was trying to decide on something to say or whether his was intending his brooding gaze to make her flustered.

Victoria Beckham's background cooing of "I wanna make love to ya baby" looped in Mindy's head as she excused herself to the bar.

.

She stood in line, wholly distracted. Mindy barely noticed the light tapping on her arm. "Bruce Springsteen is great, huh?"

Mindy turned out. It was Jude Law. Well, a comparable second. "Oh," Mindy fumbled. "Uh, yeah, he's pretty great." She assumed that snare-heavy song playing right now was by Bruce Springsteen. Mindy was caught off guard, pulled out of her interior dialogue into conversation with a man who only five hours later she wanted to devour and then raise children with. Now, though, she felt his presence unwanted. Mindy swore she could still feel Danny's damp palms on her hip.

Jude Law went on, oblivious to Mindy's internal disinterest. "I'm Ian." Jude Law stuck out his hand. "I grew up in Jersey with Barry."

Mindy's heart slowed down enough to engage this stranger in conversation. She kept one eye on the bar, though, wanting to get her drink and go back to the table. Part of her was nervous to find Danny again; part of her was elated. "I'm Mindy. Shauna and I used to work together."

The conversation circled dully around introductions: Mindy informed Jude Law on the practice, as quickly as she could. He told her an otherwise charming childhood anecdote starring Barry. Mindy just wasn't interested. She felt antsy. Anxious, almost.

Her anxiousness was solidified when she scanned over Danny, looking upon Mindy's close proximity to Jude Law with stoicism. Mindy felt compelled to give some sort of nonverbal indicator that she was not invested in the conversation. Could she physically push Jude away? Before Mindy could decide on anything to do, she'd lost Danny's figure in the crowd.

Mindy frowned. She felt wrung with disappointment. Abruptly slipping away from her conversation, Mindy hurried back to the table where only Betsy and Morgan sat, laughing and clinking together their wine glasses.

.

To be continued

.


	5. Chapter 5

Shauna's Wedding

Dancing with Danny had been so brief; it was just a jolt of excitement that Mindy wanted to feel more of. She figured it was probably self-indulgent of her to sink so thoroughly into these feelings she had from Danny and for Danny.

She'd felt them before, sure. Little waves of appreciation, enjoyment, attraction, whatever for him. They'd come and go, but she always varnished over them, pushing them below the surface where she could see them but not feel them. Now, though, drunk enough to still consider herself composed, Mindy wanted to find Danny. If nothing else, she wanted to offer him some sort of act of kindness, proving to him that his company wasn't so disposable in favor of Jude's.

.

Mindy didn't cross with paths with Danny until the reception began to dwindle and the crowd thinned. She had capped her evening hanging out with Morgan. She was fine with that; they'd had a few laughs. The surprisingly gnawing feelings of guilt or wrongdoing toward Danny irritated Mindy. Her sensibilities drifted in and out of her rationalizations. In one minute it seemed she'd go from wanting to right a theoretical wrong, to berating herself for not giving Jude Law a real chance.

Because what was the alternative, really? Laughing over tiny crème brulee with Danny Castellano? That was fun, sure. She often surprised herself with the level of attachment and allegiance she felt toward Danny. But to feel _guilt _that he'd merely seen her _speaking _to another man? Mindy didn't want that. She wasn't ready for that.

As it turned out, nor was Mindy ready for the eyeful she received walking back into the hotel. She and Morgan had their arms linked, stumbling through the damp grass back to their hotel. Mindy could barely make out that it was Danny in the shadows of the hotel's courtyard. He had his back against the brick of the exterior hotel wall, a woman in a blazer and a nametag that read _Jennifer _squirming flirtatiously in front of him.

"Yo, Dr. C!" Morgan was oblivious to Mindy's confidence caught in her throat. Rightfully so, Mindy figured. Morgan had no reason to assume that a raven-haired woman brushing Danny's hair out of his eyes would make Mindy anxious. And irritated. Did the woman not perceive anything about Danny? His hair wasn't long enough to be in his eyes. She didn't have to brush it like that. And the way she kept shifting her weight from foot to foot, rolling her ankles and alternately poising her shoulders? Danny would ask if she needed a spinal readjustment, not bed her.

No. Mindy didn't like this. Females unite. She didn't want to tear this other woman down just to build her own self up. Wait, did she?

Mindy's warp-speed self-talk was drowned out by Morgan. He eyed Danny carefully. "Pay-per-view in my room tonight! A little post-wedding Sandra Bullock, perhaps? Or," Morgan pointed to Mindy, "We had a proposal by this lovely woman for an all-night _Twilight _saga. All the way to _Breaking Dawn._ Yes?" Morgan's pointed finger moved to the woman attached to Danny. "_You _seem like a promising fan of sexually active vampires. You in, kids?"

No one said anything. Jennifer looked from Danny to Morgan, trying to gauge an answer. Mindy looked at her feet, sighing. Her upward gaze was met by Danny's annoyingly penetrative stare. Mindy tried to subdue the perhaps unwarranted hurt feelings she felt by the introduction of Jennifer. "Morgan, come on." Mindy tugged Morgan toward the door. "Let's um," She dropped her eyes from Danny's. "Let's not interrupt. Nobody wants to watch _Twilight_. It's not 2009."

"You do."

"Okay, yes, I do. I want to pay 12.99 to see Robert Pattison." Mindy knew her and Morgan's presence was wholly unwanted. Whatever quiet jealousy she felt at this moment was eclipsed by the feeling of embarrassed intrusion. Mindy's eyes were focused on the brick path, though she could see the sandal-wearing feet of Jennifer move closer toward Danny's feet. "Alright, Morgan, time for us to go." She hooked her arm into Morgan's and pulled him through the sliding glass doors back into the hotel.

.

Mindy was surprised to see Jeremy in the room. The earlier complication in reservations had caused Jeremy to forfeit his own private room and share with Morgan. Mindy figured, though, that his late-night presence had little to do with his inability to seduce a woman in a private hotel room – Jeremy could find a way around that. Mindy assumed that he chose to watch movies because Betsy, still in her party dress, was curled up on the couch, quietly vetoing the film titles Mindy was reading aloud from the TV's pay-per-view list.

Morgan was changing in front of everyone. His half-dressed state was something Mindy saw far too frequently in the office. For an unexplained reason, Morgan was always _changing _in his nurse's quarters. Oftentimes it was just for one pair of scrubs to the other and Mindy couldn't place why, so his changing into dingy sweatpants now was of no bother. She'd also stopped at her room and gotten comfortable: black and white heart-patterned leggings and an oversized white New York City Marathon wife-beater that she and Alex had tie-dyed in like, 2001.

It was nice, this group huddled together in room 75, dividing themselves to fit comfortably on the two double beds pointed at the television.

"How do we feel about Hilary Swank?" Mindy wondered aloud, waiting for someone to encourage the purchase of _Million Dollar Baby _or to dismiss it. "It's kind of a classic, right?" Mindy scrolled down further. "Oh, _Freedom Writers_. New Jersey has a weird fixation on Hilary Swank."

The heavy hotel room door was pushed open and Danny slid through. A tight knot of exhilaration formed in Mindy's stomach. She refused to luxuriate in the feeling, though, continually pressing buttons on the remote control to feign preoccupation.

"Dr. C!" Morgan snuck up behind Danny, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. "Things go south with Jen?"

Mindy stared hard at the television like she'd never even heard of _Notting Hill _before.

"Uhh," Danny began. Mindy wondered where he was looking. "I just it would be more fun to, uh, hang out with you guys."

Morgan was skeptical. "You thought _this _would be more fun than having sex? We've been waiting for Mindy to choose a movie for twenty minutes."

"Okay, Morgan, enough." Mindy finally looked up at Morgan and Danny. Danny was looking directly at her, smiling an apprehensive, unsure smile. Mindy softened.

Danny sat down next to Mindy on the foot of the bed, removing his jacket and vest and rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. She could see the glint of sweat on his forehead in the blue light from the television, but god damn did he have nice forearms. The foot of the bed somehow seemed like a private space, because Mindy asked him where Jennifer went. Subtlety was hard for Mindy. It killed her not to stare open-mouthed at Danny when he came into the room. Another minute of pretending to be unsurprised by his presence was just too difficult.

"Where'd the girl go?" Mindy instantly hated how she phrased the question. She hated that she had chosen, spitefully, to call her _the girl _instead of Jennifer. Mindy had known full well the woman's name. She'd stared at her nametag for the majority of their interaction. To counter her displeasure in sounding so bitter, Mindy once again busied herself with perusing pay-per-view.

Danny's answer came a few thoughtful seconds after she'd asked. He seemed to brush off the existence of the woman who, not a half hour earlier, was flirting with the prowess of a goddess. Danny didn't truly form words or a sentence to dismiss Jennifer's absence; rather, he sort of croaked a response. Sometimes he was _so _Italian.

"Well." Mindy shrugged, her eyes drifting back to Danny's. She couldn't help but curl into a relieved smile. She didn't know what to say, exactly. It didn't matter, terribly, that few concrete words were spoken; Danny was visibly pleased at Mindy's blatant relief in his presence.

He waited a few seconds before speaking these heart-wrenching words: "Wedding's aren't a great place to meet someone." Their mutual soft gazes met briefly before he added: "Someone new."

Shit. Mindy swallowed the lump in her throat, overwhelmed, her eyes rolling over Danny's face wildly, trying to absorb some sort of measure of how literally she should take his words. Feeling like she had no choice but to accept his sentiment at its honest, bold face value, Mindy turned her attention back to the television, her heart racing.

.

Everyone fell asleep before _The Amazing Spiderman _ended. Mindy, at the head of the bed, lying horizontally over the pillows; Danny, at the foot of the bed, horizontal as well. Everyone woke in the morning, disoriented, sore, and with varying degrees of a hangover. They dispersed back to their rooms to shower, drink water, take an aspirin, and meet for the brunch and gift opening in the garden for eleven.

The gift opening was exactly what Mindy expected. Excited guessing of the contents of the gift with a heartfelt "Oh wow!" at every unwrapped set of place mats. Shauna and Barry accumulated every twenty-first century newlywed gift in the book: martini shaker, blender, stemless wineglasses, espresso machine, and of course, the molacajete from Mindy and Danny.

Wedding guests watched the gift opening from their tables, soaking up the alcohol in their bodies with Belgian waffles and downing mimosas and Bloody Mary's to combat their headaches.

Before two o'clock, Mindy, Danny, Jeremy, Betsy, and Morgan were back on the train, headed to Manhattan.

.

Mindy and Danny were once again sitting next to one another. Mindy felt slightly strange about this. She didn't know whether to readdress their evening the night before, or to let it rest in the easy silence between them. Part of her just wasn't ready to place so much meaning on their dancing, his helping her get ready, his abandonment of Jennifer. The gossip in her wanted to know what Danny said to Jennifer to excuse himself, but the part of her wary of Danny as anything resembling a thoughtful romantic was too nervous to ask.

Instead, in what she thought it was an unassuming, discreet way, Mindy searched for Bruce Springsteen on her iPhone. She wanted more insight on Danny without having to ask him directly. One of the first YouTube results was "I'm On Fire". Mindy slipped in her ear buds and immediately recognized the song as the music playing last night at the bar when Jude Law had approached her.

Something about the knowledge that Bruce Springsteen had been playing and the look of disappointment that had been on Danny's face when she had seen him see her with Jude brought about a sharp feeling of understanding for Danny's interest in Jennifer. This was but another example on the ever-growing list teaching Mindy that she was not, in fact, the only person in the world.

Mindy wondered, silently, pressing repeat on her phone. The song was intense, moody, brooding, sexy. Was this how Danny felt about romance? Were these the type of lyrics that he translated to this own life? Mindy reconsidered her labelling "Stay" by Rihanna is the Most Romantic Song of All Time.

She press repeat again.

Danny nudged Mindy, asking what she was listening to. Immediately Mindy realized that her phone had been tilted in Danny's direction, offering him full viewing access of her YouTube search. Danny's huge interest in Bruce Springsteen was an often-talked-about subject at Shulman and Associates; more so, Mindy's total disinterest in any music made before 2004 was a commonly understood fact.

"You're listening to Springsteen?" Disbelief was not well-concealed in Danny's voice. In fact, his tone was almost mocking. Mindy flushed crimson in Danny outing her obvious research.

She wanted to tell him where and under what circumstances she'd heard it the night before, and how it was helping to fill in the blanks of Danny's character enough for her to work up the nerve to maybe, say, touch her foot to his or rest her head on his shoulder. Or, even more simply, to tell him that listen, something's not quite as platonic here as I had thought; what the hell?

Mindy didn't say any of this. Instead, she offered a reductive response of: "I heard it last night." And carried on with: "You know, you actually kind of look like him."

Danny's mouth stretched into a lopsided, amused grin at this, causing Mindy to grin back.

"But I mean, hey man, this video is from, what, 1987?" Her teasing was an attempt to lighten things. "The fact that I can recognize a pair of your jeans in the video is an alarming example of your need to, you know, join us here in the new millennium."

Danny rolled his eyes at this but his amusement just wouldn't go away.

Mindy liked that.

Their chemistry was there, she knew. It existed quietly and mutually, and that was enough for right now.

.

Fin.


End file.
